


bitches brokenhearted

by The_Wayward_Orphans_101



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America and England broke up, America/France is briefly mentioned, Cold War Era, Infidelity, M/M, Mpreg, WIP, brief mention of stillbirth, i like shipping england with other people lol, i promise usuk is my otp it's just..., things are rough lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23471452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wayward_Orphans_101/pseuds/The_Wayward_Orphans_101
Summary: “Perhaps we should’ve named him Nikolai instead,” Ivan said, his pale purple eyes glancing down at the concealed bump. His wide pale hand that wasn’t holding the bin settled on Arthur’s bump. “You’re terrible Sacha, hurting your mother like this,” he whispered.  He glanced back at Arthur’s face noting the slow trickle of color returning to his face.Arthur chuckled, gripping the edge of the conference table so tight his knuckles went white. “He stilled now, seems like he obeys his papa more.”Ivan smiled, and this time Arthur’s breath caught for another reason. It was rare outside of their shared homes to see Ivan’s true smile. It was a gentle curve of the lips, barely there if you hadn’t known him.“I think he’ll love you more when he’s born.”--It was at least a century since the last male pair had conceived, and with the latest pregnancy ending tragically, Arthur and Ivan are constantly carrying tension underneath. To make matters worse, the Cold War has started and it seems that America still hasn't forgiven Arthur for their break-up.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/France (Hetalia), England/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! I should be working on my hanaki au fic, but I recently read someones usuk story here and this thought just bubbled up for some reason lol (also I really secretly love RusEng, so this is just guilty pleasure lol). It's just a small wip I cooked up while working between school and the hanaki au story, so enjoy! I'll let y'all make up the ending of this, it'll be a while before I add on if I ever do.

_“Are you alright?”_ Ivan whispered, leaning over Arthur. He knew that the other nations would talk, especially since he suddenly tugged Arthur into a different room but he didn’t care about their opinions. He rarely did.

_“I’m fine poppet, really. It’s just…your ruddy child likes moving too much,”_ Arthur muttered, wincing as another kick hit ribs. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he had to take another moment to steady his breathing. They knew the risks about having Alexander, especially since they were the first male pair to conceive in over a century. _“I think he takes after you too much, such a brute you made,”_ he joked, but he knew it would fall flat the moment nausea took over. Ivan saw the sudden change in his face and quickly grabbed the waste bin near the entrance. Gently he held it closer to Arthur’s face as they both waited for the moment to pass.

_“Perhaps we should’ve named him Nikolai instead,”_ Ivan said, his pale purple eyes glancing down at the concealed bump. His wide pale hand that wasn’t holding the bin settled on Arthur’s bump. _“You’re terrible Sacha, hurting your mother like this,”_ he whispered. He glanced back at Arthur’s face noting the slow trickle of color returning to his face.

Arthur chuckled, gripping the edge of the conference table so tight his knuckles went white. _“He stilled now, seems like he obeys his papa more.”_

Ivan smiled, and this time Arthur’s breath caught for another reason. It was rare outside of their shared homes to see Ivan’s true smile. It was a gentle curve of the lips, barely there if you hadn’t known him.

_“I think he’ll love you more when he’s born.”_

As the nausea left Arthur, all he could imagine was finally getting to hold his little boy. There was only 4 more months left, if everything went well, but with the passing bouts of sickness increasing there was also an underlying fear that never left him. He’d seen what had happened to Elizabeth’s child during the war, the way her body collapsed, and the way the poor baby was so still and blue. Both Austria and Gilbert were besides themselves, never forgiving themselves for being the cause of the baby’s demise.

He worried, especially now with America’s rising tension against Ivan that the same would happen to them. Their escalating war was pointless and terrifying. He didn’t agree with either parties’ actions, while Ivan had seemed to mentally stabilize after finding out about the pregnancy…the same could not be said about America. No one else knew about the pregnancy asides from themselves and Arthur's best friend Vlad, but even without America knowledge he seemed to grow increasingly mad. Threats of leveling the Soviet Union with so many nuclear weapons had his heart drop into his stomach. Much of the world was caught in the crossfire, being forced to side with either America’s capitalism or Ivan’s communism. While Arthur knew he himself was mostly shielded from having to choose sides because he was already with Ivan, therefore had more leeway on what he and his people chose, he had to admit he was frightened by America. It wasn’t always like that, and if Arthur was fair, in the beginning of all this mess he would’ve thought that he and America would’ve still been together. That THEY would be the first pair to carry again. However, America’s betrayal had ended all that, and while Arthur had already made peace with what happened…America refused to.

Which is why he jumped when he saw America’s red face staring daggers at both of them. Ivan looked back and merely sighed when he saw his enemies face, placing the bin down, and tutted when he saw the way he was shaking.

“America, to what displeasure I have seeing you. Would you mind going back to the conference room and madly rave about how much better your capitalist pig ideals are?” He snarked, standing steadfast in front of Arthur to block America’s view of his ex-partner.

America shoved the door in, letting it slam against the wall as he marched in. His blue eyes were hard, cold as the biting winters in the tundra.

“Why? So you could go fuck that whore while we’re doing all the dirty work? C’mon don’t be so silly,” America sang. His voice was sharp and at odds with the Hollywood smile he plastered on. His eyes never strayed from Arthur’s position.

Ivan’s smile was positively freezing. He took a step closer to America and didn’t stop until he was nose to nose with the capitalist country.

“Don’t talk about him like that you pig. Besides, weren’t you the one who fucked up? Don’t tell me that France somehow fell on your cock on accident,” Ivan sneered. The way America’s vicious smirk just froze tickled him in some way.

America just looked passed Ivan and shot a heartbroken look to Arthur. “You told him?”

Arthur just stared at him in disbelief. “Of course I did, it’s not like you hid it well anyways,” he said, blown away from the utter nonsense America had. “America just-“ another wave of nausea hit Arthur like a freight train and he had to clasp a hand over his mouth to hold back the bile that threatened to spew all over.

Ivan reacted first, shoving America out of the way and kneeling under his partner, one hand rubbing his back while the other quickly snatched the waste bin and brought it back up to Arthur’s face.

America was dazed by the sudden shove and stumbled back. The sudden smell of acrid bitterness shocked him back to focus. “Arthur?”

_“Let it out my sunflower, it’s okay I’m here with you,”_ Ivan murmured, giving America a glare that for once had America still at. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end from it, and while he didn’t want to admit it, it made him hesitate. Arthur finished emptying his stomach out with one last dry heave and rested his head on Ivan’s shoulder. None of them said anything for a few passing moments, the air filled with the stomach-turning scent of bile, but also as frigid as the stratosphere. They all knew that another explosive fight was bound to happen if no one left soon, but both power houses were too stubborn and unwilling to leave first; to flee with their tail tucked between their legs. 

America twitched, the sound of Russian rolls and grunts grated in his ears.

_“I’m fine…let’s go home,”_ Arthur whispered, not lifting his head at all. He felt absolutely disgusting and lightheaded, all he wanted to do was lie down in absolute silence and darkness. America grit his teeth, rage starting to coil in his stomach at the fact that Arthur spoke Russian in near perfect fashion.

_“Yes. Hold on darling, it will be unpleasant only for a moment,_ ” Ivan said, putting the foul bin to the floor before gently hoisting Arthur up in his arms in a bridal carry. He stared back at America, his face dropping into a passive expression. “Arthur made his choice, leave him be,” he said before making his way to the door and past America. Before America could respond Ivan spoke up again, this time however his voice was hard, a near growl. “Bother us again and the bombs will be a promise.”

With that Ivan passed the silently shaking nation, walking as fast as he could without jostling his lover too much. He made a mental note to have one of his sisters tell Germany some excuse on why they left early and gave a short nod to the staff in the lobby who quickly summoned their driver to pull up. Arthur groaned, Sacha becoming more active and kicking up a fuss in his abdomen. Ivan pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, thanking the doorman when he signaled them to come out and get into their car. As the valet opened the door and he slipped both of them in, he thought about the glint in America’s eye earlier when he looked at Arthur.

“Ivan..,” Arthur whined. Ivan had unconsciously tightened his hold over Arthur and it just increased the pressure he felt. Ivan quickly loosened his hold, murmuring sincere apologies and rubbed his arm.

_“I’m sorry my sunshine, we’ll be home soon. Sacha, ease up a little my cub. The awful man isn’t here anymore,_ ” he said, he laid a hand on top of his bump to try and calm their willful child. Even as he promised that, it just didn't settle right in his stomach with the severe animosity America leveled him. 

“He really does listen to you more, just hearing your voice in that tone has him settling back down,” Arthur chuckled, his smile more of a grimace as Sacha gave one last adjustment and settled down. 


	2. A Deal is Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a time to scheme, with an obsessive America breathing down their necks Ivan and Arthur make a plan. The cottage is a grand step away from their respective homes, but it's a place to build a family. Sometimes though, compromises have to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Another chapter! So I'm thinking to have this as 4 parts, this being the nice relaxing bit w/ some thoughts, while the next is where it picks up and "ends." 4 will be the epilogue which is filled with ideas Allen-Arthur gave me! 
> 
> I'm thinking this gonna take around a month to finish bc school just started up for me, and like a FOOL I took an 8:30 am math class, and I am dying. Looks like I'm going to be severely abusing cold brew from now on lmao.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Translation: 
> 
> Kotyonok: kitten  
> Solnyshko: my sun/little sun  
> Zvezda moya: my star

Arthur winced as Sacha kicked up a flurry, abusing his poor bladder more than usual. He shifted, trying to get his willful baby to kick something else to avoid another accidental spill.

“A wild child that one’s gonna be, ey?” Allister said, snickering at the sharp glare his youngest brother tossed him.

“I wish he was more like his father. Seems I’m doomed to create another unruly Kirkland,” Arthur grunted, his hand settling on his obvious bump as Sacha finally settled down. The boy was getting more active with every passing day, and while at first Arthur was overjoyed that his little boy was healthy all he wished now was for a moment of peace. And to pass a day with no pee stains ruining his boxers.

Allister laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his lips curled into a smirk.

“He may be half Russian, but the boy will always be a Kirkland first.”

“And yet his first language will be Russian, _Da_?” A new voice, soft yet timber, said coming from the kitchen to the foyer. Arthur smiled as he saw his partner cross over with a tray of tea and pastries. He leaned his head up for a kiss, warmth curling around him when he felt Ivan’s pale lips touch his. They both ignored the gagging sound coming from the redhead.

“Mm, maybe I’ll let that happen just to piss them all off,” Arthur jokes, nose crinkling as Ivan bopped it with his finger.

“We’re going to be Kirkland’s, at least let me have this,” Ivan said, placing Arthur’s cup, warm milk because their doctors had placed a strict caffeine ban, to the wooden table beside him before handing Allister his own, a cinnamon tea with a light spoon of honey. Allister gave him a small nod of gratitude before sipping.

“I’ll consider it.”

“But _Milyy_ ,” Ivan whined, gently nuzzling his partner's shoulder, being careful not to spill his tea. “He’ll be good at English eventually! Let him learn Russian first.”

Arthur smiled, turning to press a light kiss to Ivan’s head, “Now you’re acting like a child Vanya.”

“Will you two please stop acting disgustingly domestic? There’s still no ring ‘round his finger and both of ya are pressing ya luck,” Allister grunted, giving the couple a look. “Mum would’ve skinned me alive if she knew I let ye get knocked up before yer wedding.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, leaning into Ivan’s warmth. He’d heard the same conversation over and over from the rest of his brothers, and while he vaguely remembered his mother’s calloused palms gently caressing his cheeks and the faint whispers of her promises on his skin…he didn’t remember her as much as the rest of them. Plus, he’d appreciate it if they’d stop treating him like some sort of damsel in distress. A princess in need of her virtue being protected, which honestly, he lost centuries ago.

“I’m not a child, Allister. Plus, you know very well he’ll make an ‘honest’ man out of me,” Arthur said, nearly purring at the thick and heavy fingers gently carding through his hair.

“ _Da_. I’m not an idiot.”

Allister stayed quiet, lips pressed together and his vivid green, two shades darker than Arthur’s, darkened as he remembered a time when a bubbly American promised that same thing. He’d taken him to the side one day during a meeting and asked for permission. Allister couldn’t help the huff that left him, wanting nothing more than to punch those Hollywood white, perfectly straight teeth, out of his mouth after what he did. “You better,” He warned, green eyes bore into Ivan’s purple ones.

Ivan gave a slight nod, something simple but it lifted the weight off of Allister’s chest. There would be no do-overs. Ivan was not the same as America.

“If you would kindly stop making eyes at the father of my child, could we kindly go over what you were supposed to be here for?”

Allister snorted, settling his half-finished teacup to the side before grabbing the briefcase he settled on the floor next to him. “That one’s yers, I like mine shorter and less menacing. Anyways, always right to business with ye. Can’t a brother be overprotective for once?” He joked and pulled out the gathered agenda they had put together. “Yer sure the yank won’t make a fuss over the sudden switch?”

This time Arthur snorted. He looked through his own set of papers he had put aside and made sure everything was correct. “Like he could do anything about it. I’m not anything of his anymore and he isn’t anything of mine. Something he made _very_ clear.”

Both Ivan and Allister saw the way Arthur’s hand subtly started to shake and Allister internally cursed. He knew it was an important topic they’d have to deal with, especially with the increasing erratic moves America had been making towards any allies that had communist ties. Not to mention the amount of times he had gone pestering them specifically about Arthur.

Ivan put his own tea aside and wrapped an arm around Arthur, rubbing soothing circles around on his side. He knew that even though all of Arthur’s love for America died that day, it still haunted Arthur. Ivan never thought he would feel the intense grip of rage that engulfed him at the memory of Arthur’s pain outside of when his people waged war. His blood boiled, it sang and wailed, demanding retribution against the cowardly nation for what he did to his beloved. His jaw was clenched, and he must’ve held Arthur a little too tightly because Arthur gave him a soft nudge with his foot. Ivan shot him an apologetic look and relaxed before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before looking back at Allister.

“If the idiot tries to pry again, let him know that I’m not above crushing him where he stands.”

Allister looked at his baby brother, seeing how he instantly relaxed around the Russians arm and took a moment before nodding. “Ye better. Now on to the boring shite.”

Arthur groaned as he kneeled over the toilet. The doctor had said his morning sickness should’ve faded away by the first trimester but since they weren’t sure how his nation status, and male body, affected the pregnancy overall, they couldn’t guarantee the answer. He gave himself a moment to rest before carefully standing, making sure to balance himself with the added protruding weight that little Sacha made.

“God, you’re going to be the only one I ever have you hear that! Don’t go asking for a sibling because I think you’re going to kill me,” he muttered as he closed the lid and flushed the bile down. “Listen to me, acting as if I could even get pregnant again. You better be happy being a single child poppet, I don’t think another miracle like you can happen all that soon after.”

Arthur smiled, it was small, but it was filled with the warmth and tenderness he didn’t think he had left in him, when he felt Sacha’s fluttering movement. He washed his hands and washed his teeth, needing to scrub that acrid taste away.

“Who knows _solnyshko_ , perhaps they’ll bless us with another just to defy you,” Ivan said, leaning on the bathroom doorway. He was dressed in his white thank and pajama bottoms, his usually tamed silver hair all disheveled yet still put together in a way Arthur’s never is.

Arthur just glared at him through the mirror, mouth covered in toothpaste foam. He spat it out and rinsed his mouth before turning around to face his smiling boyfriend. “If the bastards decide to bless us with another, you’re carrying them. I can’t see my bloody feet and my ankles are swollen!” He nearly launched the toothbrush still in his had at Ivan’s smirking face.

“Oh, so you’re saying you’d like another _zvezda moya_?” Ivan said, laughing as he ducked to dodge the launched toothbrush.

“I swear if I didn’t love you I would murder you, you absolute pillock!” Arthur cried out, “And now you have to go and get me another toothbrush because that was my last one.”

Ivan smiled and walked towards Arthur engulfing him in a hug, or rather tried too with their baby in the way. “ _Da, Da_ , calm down _kotyonok_ , I will go to the village later to grab the rest of the supplies we need. Would you like to come? It’s getting closer to when the doctors and Vladimir wish for you to stay at home and be bed bound.”

Arthur sighed and took a moment to think, his head barely being able to rest against Ivan’s warm chest. Any prolonged movement tired him easily, and he didn’t want to burden Ivan more than the he already was.

“I want to, but your spawn is evil and loves to dance on my bladder whenever he gets too excited.”

Ivan snorted before pulling away and kneeling in front of Arthur. He held the bump with reverent hands, wide, calloused hands rubbing a soothing pattern into it as he felt around for the rambunctious baby. “Sacha, what did we say about being mean to your papa? You little rascal,” He whispered, his face glowed when he felt Sacha move against his palms. His smile was wide, and the corner of his eyes crinkled, the man looking more like an excited child than the towering, stone faced man that struck uneasiness with most people. 

Arthur watched, his heart fluttering at the amount of tender love pouring from Ivan. He couldn’t help but think that if he had been blessed with a child earlier with America, that he wouldn’t hold a candle to the amount of adoration and joy Ivan showed. There was just something about Ivan’s behavior that made Arthur so… _happy_. There was no doubt in his mind that Ivan would do anything to keep them safe.

He must’ve had an odd look on his face because when Ivan glanced back up, he paused and tilted his head to the side a bit. “Are you alright _solnyshko?_ You have your thinking face on.”

Arthur shook his head, his hand settling on top of Ivan’s. He noted their size difference, ‘ _Yes, definitely wider than America’s…and kinder,’_ he thought. “I’m going to miss this,” he said, smiling at the way Ivan’s nose scrunched.

“But I thought you weren’t comfortable being pregnant?”

Arthur shook his head again. “No, not that. God knows I want to be done with this as soon as possible because Sacha acts like a professional gymnast in here. No, I’m going to miss this-“ he waved one hand around them, “-the peace. We can’t raise him here, our bosses would hound us more than they are now if we stay remote. I just…I wish we could stay like this until he was older,” he said, shoulders sagging. If he were more honest, he’d say he wish they could abandon it all. The meetings, the politics, the games they had to play, eggshells they’d have to walk around every few decades when war and identities clashed. He’s envious of humans. They could raise a family in peace, never fearing that one wrong move from your people could change the game.

Ivan must’ve understood from what wasn’t said, because he gave a bitter smile. One that was too pinched, too far away, too unfitting for the moment they just had. Both of them stayed quiet, reliving memories that haunted them for centuries. Of ghosts clawing to consume them, and for Arthur, the memory of a child caught in the crossfire. Hungary’s ear-splitting scream still haunted him some nights.

“I think…there’s a way to do this, _zvezda moya_ ,” Ivan murmured, taking one of Arthur’s hands and interlacing his fingers with him, “We could rotate, have our siblings run the meetings in our place while we retreated back here. Give Sacha some sense of normalcy.”

Arthur thought about it. Sacha wouldn’t be constantly surrounded by unstable nations, he wouldn’t have to deal with any insufferable politicians, no crooked smiles with jagged teeth during this turbulent period…he’d have a chance to grow up relatively normally during the times they could hide away again.

“I’d like that.”

Ivan smiled, small but so bright it caught Arthur’s breath again.

“Good. And if the politicians don’t agree to that, well, fuck ‘em cause this is Russia.”

Arthur snorted, slapping him upside the head with his free hand. Not admitting that he would’ve broken out into tears from the horribly stereotypical Russian accent Ivan used, if it weren’t for Sacha sitting on his bladder again.

“ _Never_ use that awful accent again, god you’re an insufferable git.”

Ivan laughed, belly deep and hardy, before standing up again and bringing their joined hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on Arthur’s knuckles, “And yet, you love me.”

Arthur flushed, feeling the heat bloom over his freckled cheeks. He walked out with Ivan towards their kitchen and sat down in the wooden chair Ivan pulled out for him, watching him as he started to make their tea. He placed his hands on his bump, enjoying the calmer flutters Sacha made, “And yet, I love you.”


End file.
